Celebrity news & gossip from the world’s showbiz and glamour magazines (OK!, Hello, National Enquirer and more). We read them so you don’t have to, picking the best bits from the showbiz world’s maw and spitting it back at them. Expect lots of sarcasm.
So says the Star’s front page. And reading on we learn that “Big Brother bully” Jade Goody – rebranded Jade Hoody – is within the cushioned walls of The Priory.
But why? It was not too long ago that Jade was beaming with delight as she took possession of her new £1.5million Essex pile.
Surely she could recuperate from fame’s vicissitudes within its expansive walls, with her two children and lover Jack Tweedy for support and love?
But it is not enough for “Sad Jade”. If she is to return to the fore and be forgiven, Jade need to do penance in the required celebrity manner. And that means a prolonged stay in The Priory clinic.
As the Star reports, Jade is depressed after her incessant bullying of Shilpa Shetty.
A source says: “She spends every day thinking about what happened with Shilpa and is not over it at all. Being called a racist is not something you forget and she can’t cope with everything that has been said.”
So she needs help? “The therapy sessions at The Priory are where she can open up and be honest about how she feels.”
The Priory is like Big Brother, an enclosed house for the needy and emotional. Jade was pretty open on the show, banging on about this and that, frotting her lover between belches. Jade opened up and we peered at the unsightly mess within.
So there goes Jade in her huge Range Rover through the centre’s gates. It is a trip she’s made before. And while we wonder if Jade has a loyalty card, or if she qualifies for a discount on account of still feeling low after previous treatments, we hear of a cure.
As the source tells us: “It could take weeks or months, and even then she may only get over it if she can meet Shilpa again.”
The odds are slimmer than an Indian chicken chef of the Bollywood babe stooping to save Jade’s career.
But on a brighter note, the Star says Jade has just been handed a “symbolic rainbow of roses” by an Iranian man on behalf of his community.
Well, not the whole rainbow, obviously – roses don’t come in brown, not unless they’re dying…
For those of you unversed in Danielle’s work, she is dressed for the job in a pair of white hotpants and little else. Danielle might be a bigot and a bully, but she knows how to play to her strengths.
So here is Danielle on the Star’s front page. And there is a back story.
Danielle has been out for the night with a coffee-skinned pal called Leeandra Anderson.
At the apogee of Danielle’s Big Brother notoriety, Leeandra arrived on daytime TV. She was on This Morning. As a dark-skinned girl known to Danielle, Leeandra was Exhibit B in Danielle’s defence against racism.
And if any more evidence were needed – and before Danielle’s could show us her Beyonce CDs and how a cousin drinks her coffee black – Danielle and Leeandra kiss.
At a night out lapdancing in Stringfellows with her dark friend and her mum – remarkably, Danielle was watching and not performing – Danielle puckers up.
The Star’s picture shows Danielle grabbing Leeandra’s face in her left hand. Her right arm is hooked around Leeandra’s neck. Leeandra’s eyes are shut. Danielle’s eyes are open.
Danielle knows what she is doing. And if she can do it in a G-string and no bra, then so much the more tolerant…
Given the popular reaction to her time in the Big Brother house, any interview with Danielle Lloyd is bound to be laced with more than a hint of exclusivity. After all, who else but the Star would want to hear from the woman accused to racism, bigotry and bullying?
So here is Danielle. Pictured on the point of nearly exposing a nipple on the Star’s front page, Danielle tells us: “I’M BACK IN BED WITH MY LOVER TEDDY.”
Teddy is Teddy Sheringham, Danielle’s middle-aged footballer. And there is the former England player, age 39, out on the town with 23-year-old Danielle.
Looking happy to see her man, and happier still to see a camera looking at her, Danielle and Teddy are out for what the Star says is the first time since she embarked on her Big Brother journey.
The Stars says the couple had agreed to take things slowly, but what with Teddy’s advancing years and Danielle’s need to grasp the nettle of her fame before we lose interest, things cannot wait.
So here they are off to see We Will Rock You in London’s West End. The paper watches the pair hold hands throughout the show, which may have prevented them from fully joining in with Radio GaGa’s overhead handclapping.
Then it’s off to “posh” Asia de Cuba eatery in Covent Garden.
Teddy cracks open a bottle of champagne – well, it is Valentine’s night, and he is a footballer.
Stopping short of handing Danielle an odourless rose wrapped in a pair of novelty knickers that play “I’m Too Sexy For My Vase” when placed in water, Teddy takes his lover’s hand and leads her back to his Essex pile.
A show. A dinner. Champagne. And now this. Will the magic never end?…
There promises to be quite some feast of talent and happening for those of us who didn’t catch British pop music’s AGM last night.
For those of you not at the do, and those others of you caught up in the FA Cup match featuring Arsenal and Bolton Wanderers on the other channel, a frisson of excitement.
But the Star needs to please all its readers, so what you missed becomes what was not worth broadcasting as we see singer Natasha Bedingfield in a long dress and her fellow warbler Lily Allen in a shorter dress.
Lots more dresses in the Mail. “Amy, Lily and the rest of the Brit pack stage a spectacular fashion show on the biggest night of the pop music calendar,” trills the Mail, the words hanging above nine pictures of nine different singers in nine different dresses.
All dresses are on a theme – elegant. And for the first time in many a moon the photographers flash guns do not render an outfit transparent.
Indeed, the only singer showing any real expanse of skin is Joss Stone, which may explain why her very short dress is the one the Express selects to show its readers.
Lots of attention but no prizes for Stone. But there is a gong for her fellow dress wearer Amy Winehouse, who takes home the Best British female statuette in paste and paint.
It is hard not to warm to Winehouse, a singer who can actually sing and record hit songs, a singer who has never been on a reality show nor dated a footballer.
At the do with her mum and taxi driver father Mitch, Amy is talking to the Sun. “My dad is on a mission to get drunk because he hardly ever drinks normally as he’s driving,” says Winehouse.
Congratulations then to the Winehouses. And commiserations to the Lily Allens. As the Mirror says, Allen has been “sensationally snubbed”.
Allen, daughter to luvvie Keith Allen, is being consoled by the Mirror’s reporting team. This may well be the most painful part of the evening, but she star takes in her stride.
And, in any case, isn’t rejection a catalyst for artistic endeavour. We look forward to hearing about Lily’s disappointment in song. And if she can wear a dress – something short and tarty is advisable – then so much the better…
No small shock it is to discover that Jo O’Meara has a friend in the world, let alone friends plural.
But the Star is an expert in such matters, toiling at the coalface of Big Brother news, following up the big story while others have dropped it for lesser tales of Spice Girls reunification and Sienna Miller’s dress.
O’Meara, the former singer with SS club 7 is said to have become “a recluse being pumped with prescription drugs”.
Says a “pal”: “Jo’s got everyone worried because she’s stopped eating. She doesn’t go outside as she thinks everybody hates her.”
And this is no hunger strike. Jo is not to star in Reality Protest, the contest to see which celebrity can best the record for the longest hunger strike, Bhupendra Kumar Dutta’s impressive 78 days (his protest against British rule in India).
And Jo has not stopped eating because her chicken is undercooked and Indian hands have touched her food.
And, finally, Jo, who must be getting thin by now, is not an Indian. Sure, Jo says Indians are thin because they don’t cook their food properly, but we can say that Jo is as British as roast chicken.
Jo is a depressed celebrity. Continues this friend, whose name remains unspecified: “And, because she’s talked about suicide, she can’t be left alone.”
And: “She’s very, very fragile and is shaking and rocking a lot.” Not rocking out, just rocking. “There are some days she doesn’t even get up and get dressed.”
Such is the luxurious life of a celebrity…
Oh, irony of ironies. Can it be that the victim has become the abuser?
The Star’s front page has much to shout about. This is Big Brother’s Shilpa. This is the “fury” over “black-up TV sketch”.
Says “black social commentator” Jaye Williamson: “Maybe Shetty is the racist – mocking Africans on her TV show?”
Eroll Walters, director of the Black Londoner’s Forum, says: “It’s crude and it’s crass… black people will be outraged”.
But what of the evidence that Big Brother’s graceful and understanding Shilpa is a racist? The Star takes a look at a TV show called Extra Shetty.
Shilpa, dressed in a jumper, is pictured alongside “goofy hosts” Abid and Suresh Menon. One of the pair is clad in a frizzy black wig and has boot polish on his face.
Shilpa is seen laughing.
We do not hear the joke, we have no idea of what is being said or done. We just see Shilpa smiling. And for the Star this is enough.
A viewer says Shilpa should “hang her head in shame”.
Shilpa publicist Max Clifford says: “The Daily Star must be desperate to print this kind go rubbish.”
Desperate? Or operating at the bleeding edge of the fight against racism? The Star dares to make a stand – black, white, brown, coffee-coloured or as orange as Danielle Lloyd, the Star champions equality. Aren’t we all the same under out clothes? Can’t we just learn to rub along against each other?
And what of this Danielle Lloyd? She’s on the Star’s cover. She’s on the Star’s inner pages. Everywhere she is in her knickers.
Here is Danielle at returning from a holiday in Dubai. Customs officers are taking 600 cigarettes from her person.
Danielle is said to be meeting up with her footballer, Teddy Sheringham. Danielle and Teddy are due a “St Valentine’s Day love in”.
Anyone looking in might suppose that the Star has some kind of contract with Danielle, a deal whereby whatever the Wag’s desperate un-loveliness, her charisma bypass, her utter lack of charm and talent, she is the Star’s star.
And above all, orangey-brown Danielle is always dressed in her knickers.
Can the same be said of Shilpa?
As reviews go this is right up with the thrusting teenage boy being labelled “sweet” by the girls and the husband turning to his wife and thanking her for being “cuddly”.
Admittedly, heat magazine is no maven when it comes to album reviews, its speciality being shots of women in clothes.
As it is, we catch up with Donny as he sits in a Mediterranean-style café. Donny smokes a cigarette. The ash is long. He is between two mariachi singers. “I just want to eat my fucking breadstick in peace,” says Donny.
(Donny’s Paul Weller tribute) I’m a Rat: “Walking through the city on a Saturday night / I was getting off my rocker doing alright.”
Donny, who looks like a cross between Captain Sensible and Roland Rat, is dressed in a fur coat and skinny jeans.
Is he happy he left the Big Brother house when he did? “Yes!” says Donny. Had he taken anything before he went into the Big Brother house? “No drugs involved,” says Donny.
Donny says he is a “normal, decent bloke.” He adds: “I’m alright, you know.”
Normal is exactly what Donny is. He is the normal face of rock – a rock star formed by committee: skinny jeans, spiky hair, obvious fags, booze, cups of tea for his mates in the morning, two-fingered salutes, turning the amp up to ‘11’.
(Donny’s Rolling Stones meets The Clash tribute) Air Guitar: “I wanna piece, piece of the action / Cos I need my satisfaction.”
Donny moved out of his parents’ home six months ago. It might have been less his rebellious streak and out-there persona that made him flee the Big Brother house than a bout of home-sicknesses.
But Donny is his own man. Sure he did like Oasis. Aged 15, Donny went to the barbers with a picture of Liam Gallagher and said: “I want it like that.”
He once played a song to Noel Gallagher. Ten years later and Big Brother presenter Russell Brand introduces Donny to Noel again. “Rewind ten years or so,” says Donny to Noel, “do you remember I was the kid on your doorstep?” And Noel remembers, at least that’s what he intimates to Donny. Says Donny: “I went home on a high.”
(Donny’s The Clash tribute II) – “You’re freakin’ out, oh yeah you’re freakin’ out for sure / They haven’t seen this since the English army won the war.”
Donny once stage dived, “thinking I was grabbing a pole, but it turned out to be laser”. Sounds nasty? “But that’s just rock n ‘n’ roll,” says Donny.
Donny once played a sheep in a stage school production of Joseph. Donny is baaad to the bone…
But the now former Mrs Kerry McPadding has found love. And the new love of her life is Mark Croft, a man described by the News Of The World as a “coke-dealing cabbie”.
And you can add “romantic” to Mark’s credits because, as OK! reports, Mark is to marry Kerry on St Valentine’s Day. And – yes – this is the very same St Valentine’s Day that is, as Kerry says, “also our anniversary”.
And this may well be fortuitous. The NOTW says Mark has been jailed for taking drugs in the Navy and aware of the impact drugs can have on the memory, wise is the user that aligns memorable dates with times of public celebration.
But before Mark and Kerry can make Valentine’s Day their own special Day, and Mark can buy Kerry her fist kebab on Christmas Day, her first curry on Easter Day and her first breast operation on New Year’s Eve, we receive news.
The NOTW hears from Julie Shuker, who dated Croft for almost four years. Julie does not tell us when she and Mark shared their first kiss, their first chip supper, their first batted sausage, but she does recall the time Mark gave her a pill.
Says Julie: “We were out and Mark gave me a tablet and told me it was ecstasy. He said, ‘Go on, have one. It’ll make you feel good’. I said, ‘I don’t want to, I don’t want to die’. He told me I would be fine and I felt pressured to take it. Stupidly I did.”
Julie goes on: “I remember going to the toilet. Then the next thing I remember is a girl picking me up off the floor. She took me to Mark and he just draped me over his shoulder and dragged me around all night.”
The NOTW has a picure of Julie. She is possessed of what large Americans term “stature”. For Mark, a man of unexceptional physique, to have dragged her around “all night” must have taken no small effort.
And while we picture the scene, Julie has a warning for Katona. “Mark is very greedy and money orientated. I hate to say it but I think one of the main reasons he’s with her is because she’s a millionaire.”
We could asks what other reasons there might be for being with Kerry, but to be so would be to stray from the NOTW’s point. So we remain silent and listen in.
And we hear Julie and Mark having relations. Says Julie: “We had a balcony with a banister on it. He tied me to it with a pair of tights and blindfolded me and we had sex. I felt degraded and was glad when it was over, but Mark got a kick out of it.”
She says Marks once got her to smother his face in make-up. And: “Once he told me to walk out of the house in just my coat, so I was naked underneath. We’d only walked to the end of the path when he started kissing and groping me.
“We had sex there and then outside while people were wandering around the estate. Getting caught was a big thrill for him.”
Right it is that Julie should bring this to light in the pages of a national newspaper. She makes a stand for dignity.
But will Kerry listen to these words? We do not know. But the clock id ticking. On Valentine’s Day, Kerry and Mark will wed. And, ever he originator, they will tie the knot at Gretna Green.
Whether this knot is tied in Kerry’s stockings remains to be seen and heard…
“SHILPA’S IN THE HOUSE,” announces the Sun.
And so it is that Big Brother’s Shilpa Shetty pulls on a white sari, a garland of flowers and heads to the Houses of Parliament.
“My name is Shilpa,” says the Big Brother winner as she meets and greets her new housemates. “Shhhh…” says the concierge in the debating chamber. “Shhhhh…ilpa,” corrects Shilpa.
Having met Jade Goody and survived to tell the tale over and over and over, Shilpa is now destined to meet the country’s MPs.
“Wow!” says Tessa Jowell, the Culture Secretary as she catches her first glimpse of Shilpa. If only Tessa had put a tenner on Shilpa wearing a white sari and not the 3-1 shot of tight jeans and boob tube.
Jack Straw stops by to have his picture taken with Shilpa. The Mirror hears Labour chair Hazel Blears collar Shilpa in the corridors of power and observe: “You’re so gorgeous.”
MPS and officials “acted like love-sick teenagers”, says the Sun, “begging her to sign autographs and pose for pictures”.
“Forget affairs of state, let’s all go and see Shilpa,” says the Mail. “Bombs are going off across the country, bird flu is causing panic and police are at Downing Street’s door,” trills the Mail. “But who cares when a Bollywood star is in the House?”
Who cares? Why, the Mail cares. And the paper takes a breather from the quotidian doom and gloom to see Shilpa meet with Keith Vaz MP. She poses for the snappers. The Mail produces a shot of Shilpa waving to the crowds on its front page.
This is, as the Star’s front page tells us, Shilpa being treated like a Head of State. “Give us yer autograph,” says Tony Blair, “or I’ll bomb yer country.”
Only joking, of course. Tony’s no bully. As the Sun says, Tony’s been watching Big Brother. Of her private six-minute meeting with the Prime Minister, Shilpa says: “He was really kind and said I carried myself with the utmost dignity. He was very sweet.”
Tony presents Shilpa with a framed picture of the Palace of Westminster. It is signed by Tony and Cherie.
And there is lunch. Tony, the New Colossus of British politics, does not let his guest go hungry. Give me your poor, your huddled Big Brother housemates yearning to breathe free, and I’ll give you a slap up lunch in the Members’ Dining Room.
Joined by the aforesaid Miss Blears, ministers Peter Hain and Harriet Harman, Shilpa tucks into a meal of salmon and – irony of ironies – chicken. This was followed by a portion of “Shilpa delights”, described as an “Assortment of English desserts”.
Anyone for trifle…
“BRAND’S BIG BROTHER CELEB SEX BOOK – star tries to ban seedy biog.”
The Star’s front-page news is supported by a shot of Danielle’s Lloyd, the woman who is in Dubai catching the sun in a concerted bid to turn her skin brown and so get in touch with her inner Shilpa.
Meanwhile, in what the Sun calls “Big BRUV AFTERMATH”, books are being written. And one of these works details the life and times of Big Brother host Russell Brand.
This unofficial biography tells of Brand’s “sordid sessions” with women, including prostitutes, says the Star.
The claim is that the Big Brother presenter lost his virginity at aged 16 to a Hong Kong-based Filipino prostitute paid for by his dad Ron.
The book tells us: “Sweating and shaking, young Russell climbed into bed with the Filipino vice girl.” And… Go on… “The 16-year-old Essex lad, destined to be one of Britain’s notorious womanisers and outrageous comics, was about to be initiated in the ways of the flesh.”
This is the stuff. Who needs Jade Goody giving a balding Brummie oral sex on Big Brother 3, Makosi Musambasi polluting the Big Brother Jacuzzi and Jack Tweedy’s sticky sheets when you have this?
“Afterwards, he ran his quivering hands over the prostitute’s perfect olive curves, she sighed with passion: ‘I must leave before I fall in love with you.”
What Filipino hooker could help but fall for an inexperienced Essex local with teeth like an aroused King Charles spaniel?
And there are other flings. Amid the tales of Brand’s bulimia and his £100-a-day heroin addiction, are other Big Brother stars.
The book claims Brand has enjoyed flings with Big Brother’s Makosi, Kate Lawler and others Russell would rather keep quiet about” – until his own book comes out late this year.
The official Russell Brand biography will vie with the unofficial Russell Brand biography for sordid details.
Has Russell slept with Kate Moss? What about Abi Titmuss? And what about Danielle Lloyd?
“JADE GETS BOOT FROM CLINIC.”
Big Brother’s Jade Goody continues to make front-page news in the Star.
“Troubled Big Brother star too angry for anger management sessions”,” comes the teaser.
Is this possible? Can you be too angry? Is Jade Goody beyond therapy?
If Jade is therapy-proof, we at Anorak admit to a newfound respect for her. Sure, she’s an unlovely, charmless oafish sort, but anyone who can take on the griefmongers and therapists and beat them deserves no little praise.
And so it is that Jade has been kicked out of rehab. Jade has cracked the Priory. Jade’s too tough for them.
A source tells the Star that Jade “blew her top” soon after arriving at the celebrity hang out. “She has not learned a thing from anger management,” says a source. “She is rude as ever.”
So Jade was dismissed. Jade was rusticated. Jade was expelled from rehab.
But as we go to congratulate Jade, we learn that it was the other way around: Jade quit rehab.
Which is it? Did Jade walk? Or was Jade forced out?
Retired psychologies Mignon Sharie says her friend was staying at The Priory while Jade was in residence. “From the first day Jade was being antagonistic and attention-seeking,” says Mignon. “She was effing and blinding all the time.”
Jade was angry. She was angry in hr own room, with its en-suite bathroom and telly. “During one altercation she pushed one member of the staff.”
And: “Throughout her stay Jade behaved like a real celebrity diva.”
The patient on the scene hears a staff member tell Jade: “You cannot behave like this. We have people who are genuinely depressed and need peace and quiet.” Are we to believe that Jade is not “genuinely depressed”, that she is not as others are? That she is not like Big Brother bully Jo O’Meara?
The former SS Club 7 singer is said to be so depressed she has become afraid of mirrors and helicopters.
“This is bad,” says a pal of Jo’s. “She’s losing the plot and become a paranoid mess. She has turned all the mirrors in her room against the wall as she thinks they’ve been turned into cameras.”
And the helicopters? “She won’t set foot outside without scanning the skyline for helicopters – she thinks they’re on standby to get her.”
It might be best for Jo to remain at home. She is on “suicide watch”. She is depressed.
Perhaps if Jade could visit Jo’s house, the two could form a support group for Big Brother victims.
For victims are what they surely now are…
IT was a bright day in January and Big Brother’s Danielle Lloyd is telling the police the “TRUTH” about the “P*KI JIBE”.
We all know how Big Brother begins, but how does it end? Will it ever end?
“It’s only a gameshow,” screeches Davina McCall into the night, her eyebrows raised above her hairline.
But is Big Brother just a game of chess? And isn’t it Big Brother who teaches us that “no chess problem since the beginning of the world has black ever won. Did it not symbolize the eternal, unvarying triumph of Good over Evil?”
So here’s a pale and wan Danielle on the Star’s cover page. And adding insult to Danielle’s self-inflicted injury who is it but Shilpa Shetty posing in a bra and tight, tight jeans.
That should have been Danielle. If anyone in the Big Brother house was going to pose in her underwear on the Star’s front page it was surely going to be Danielle.
But instead of the glory and the glamour the bullying beauty is being questioned by police for more than three hours at her solicitor’s London officers. The Sun says seven Big Brother stars will be questioned over the show’s race row. Danielle is just the first.
Danielle is said to have received death threats. Big Brother, the colossus that bestrode the world, has not been good for Danielle.
But what is this? Danielle has something to say. “I agreed to go on the show, but I didn’t agree to be the victim of hatred because of the editing.”
This is the twist. 2+2 = 5. The persecutor becomes the victim. And she is not alone. Jo O’Meara, formerly of the rebranded groups SS club 7, has issued a 900-word statement.
“I am genuinely sorry,” says Jo. She feels “like a rabbit caught in the headlights”. “I am totally shattered and scare to go home,” she tells us.
And she has a question to ask: “Am I the first person in the world to make a mistake?”
We suspect not. And we recall the names of Bradley McIntosh, Paul Cattermole and Jon Lee, Jo’s former bandmates who were cautioned for possessing cannabis back in 2001.
And while we struggle to think of others who have erred, Jo goes on: “I’m devastated sorry and have no idea what to do next.”
Jo needs help. If 2+2 is to equal 5, as Big Brother famously taught us, Jo will need an agent. Jo will need John Noel, who represents the screaming Davina and Jade Goody.
As reported in the Star, Noel has four weeks to save Jade Goody’s career. “I fear it’s all over for her,” he says.
But there is a plan. “Says Noel: “The next phase is to talk to the Indian people. The idea is to see a government official, do a press call and come back.”
But will it work? Can it work? The clock is ticking. Can we learn to forgive and forget? Can we learn to love Big Brother and Jade?
“SHILPA ‘called a Paki’ on Big Brother.”
So goes the Sun’s front page. And the news is that an informant within the greater Big Brother alliance claims one use of the word features in a song. The lyrics run: “This house used to be happy, until that f**king –.”
As the Sun says on its font page, the “dashes are believed to mean the word Paki”.
But who sang such a thing? Looking over the Big Brother agonists, we see musicians aplenty.
Was it Leo Sayer (Thunder In My Heart: “A man where it comes from I just don’t know/ oh no, oh no”)?
Was it Jermaine Jackson (“Some things Are Private: “I’m gonna let you see/ All of my faces/ All the soft places”)?
What about Preparation H from Steps (5-6-7-8: “Foot kickin’ – finger clickin’, leather slapping – hand clappin’/ hip bumpin’ – music thumpin’ – knee hitchin’ – heel and toe/ floor scuffin’ – leg shufflin’ – big grinnin’ – body spinnin’/ rompin’ stompin’ – pumpin’ jumpin’ – slidin’ glidin’ – here we go”)?
Or what about Jo O’Meara from SS Club 7 (The Colour Of Blue: “The colour of blue/ Reminds me of you/ I never see grey, green, black/ You’re true”)?
It is a puzzler. And the search for the singer is made no less difficult when you realise that many who enter reality TV shows do so with an eye to scoring recording contracts and zooming up the charts.
And the story does not end here. The Sun sees a note on which a Big Brother executive has penned: “Some dodgy clips DO exist. We are f***ed.”
To go with the aforesaid song, which the Sun mentions one more time with feeling, the paper hears tell of a contestant calling Shilpa a “f***ing Paki”.
But who said such a thing? Will we ever know? Readers learn that a court order would force the programme makers to hand over all Big Brother footage.
It would then be left to the police to observe the show in its entirety and pick out moments that may be criminal, like racist language and Jermaine Jackson’s boot polish-style hair.
The Big Brother winner is once more on the Mirror’s cover page. “SHILPA. Now even the Queen wants to meet me,” goes the headline.
In “I’M SO HONOURED”, Shilpa says she is “thrilled at a chance to meet the Queen”.
“It’s a huge honour. I am humbled,” says the woman many in the Bermondsey area of London are calling Princess. And many more are calling the new Chantelle Houghton.
And now the Princess is going to the palace. Well, not exactly a palace, more Marlborough House in London.
And Shilpa is not just meeting the Queen. The do is to celebrate Commonwealth Day and Shilpa will be mingling with all the other reality TV stars and dignitaries invited to the reception.
And this is not all. The woman who was shocked by the “burping, farting, drinking and swearing” in the Big Brother house has been invited to the House of Commons.
Shilpa will attend the seat of power on February 7, when, as the Mirror says, “the PM, Chancellor Gordon Brown and senior MPs will be queuing to shake her hand”.
We who have seen Shilpa’s performance on Big Brother believe she is ready to enter another bawdy house of ill repute. And we wish her well in the Commons.
It’s the number the Mirror wants it readers to call to vote Jo out of the Big Brother house.
But why bother? Why not just leave Jo in there with an ice-cream scoopful of mashed potato and a cup of undiluted orange squash, all sat on a tray tantalisingly out of reach?
Leave her alone. Let her rot. It will all be over soon enough. No-one gets out alive. It’s the Big Brother care home.
This is giving Jo a taste of her own medicine. As the Mail reports, Junior Health Minister Ivan Lewis has been studying the goings on in the Big Brother house and has decided that it sets a bad example.
Mr Lewis says: “That kind of behaviour is entertainment. It influences young people.”
And it influences young people to confront, bully and disrespect the elderly. And Lewis wants the elderly to be treated with respect. Respect due, granddaddy-o.
Says he: “Possibly the most powerful way we could get this message out there would be EastEnders or Coronation Street. People may say it’s shallow. I think it would be powerful.”
Tory health spokesman Stephen O’Brien is unimpressed. “For a minister to offload blame on a Big Brother, however crass, will stretch the imagination of even the most pro-Labour supporter,” says he.
But O’Brien is wrong. Lewis has touched upon a rich source of social dialogue. And things could go further. Why not a soap opera based in a rest home? Not a retirement village for resting actors – we already have The Bill for that – but a home for the decrepit and geriactric.
It would be just great. The BBC cold feature repeats in the quiet moment when medication kicks in. The geriactrics could replay scenes from Dr Kildare and Royal weddings.
And if the Government wants any staff to underfeed and abuse the inmates in Sunny Glades, then there are surely openings for Daniella, Jo and Jade.
CELEBRITY Big Brother on culture.
Danielle Lloyd on Celebrity Big Brother : “They eat with their hands in India, don’t they — or is that China? You don’t know where her hands have been.”
No, it’s Britain. Home of the sandwich, apparently ‘invented’ in 1762.
But of course, what separates the Brits culturally from any other country whose population may eat with their hands is the finesse with which some of the more attractive of our country consume their late night fare.
Who else but the Brits can perfect the art of being shagged from behind while balancing precariously, with only a bus shelter for support, and consume a large doner at the same time?
And who else but the British male can show levels of bravery which allow him to ignore the inherent dangers of asking the same girl for a blow-job, regardless of how much chili sauce his pink-towelling-tracksuited-girlfriend-of-one-hour had earlier demanded be ladled onto her kebab.
Cultural superiority mate.
Or at least it will be when pantomime poppadom villain Jade Goody is released from the Big Brother house.
Until the booing and hissing can begin in earnest, the papers are left with little to talk about but the weather.
Big Brother Jade Goody’s face, contorted and raw with rage on the Sun’s cover page. “EVICT HER.” Send her packing. Boo! Hiss! Can’t wait. Can’t wait.
Thankfully, in the lull before the storm there is the weather. The weather is always doing something. And just recently it has been doing stormy and wet.
“KILLER STORM,” thunders the Express’s front page. “Twelve die as 99mph gales bring havoc across Britain.”
There is a picture of a lorry swept off a bridge. The driver died. A huge tree lies atop a car in a city street. A commuter is blown over on his way to work. Results of the worst storm to hit Britain for 17 years.
Jade Goody breathes. But it’s not much of a life; “DUMPED” by the Mirror’s front-page headline, her perfume removed from shops. She’s coming out. Can’t wait. Bring it on.
“No escape as the gales lash all of Britain,” says a further headline. “THE SUDUKO PUZZLE IS ON PAGE 4,” comes more bad news.
More pictures. Weather. Weather. Weather. A cow stuck in snow in Scotland snakes its tongues up its nostril. A bus topples into a ditch. A woman holds onto her skirt, lest the gusts blow it up over her ears and expose her flesh to the merciless weather. The Express keeps its camera remarkably steady.
This is Britain getting “LASHED” it the Star. The news is grim, if not a little better as ten and not 12 have died. The Mirror’s front page agrees: “10 DIE.”
“Boot out this bully tonight,” says the Express’s front page. The gathering storm. Dark. Foreboding. Get Goody. Get her. Get her. Get her. Get her.
It’s the Sun’s “TRAIL OF CHAOS ACROSS THE UK”. It’s the “BATTER OF BRITAIN.” Travel misery for thousands but the spirit of the Blitz will see us though.
“They’ll be bluebirds flying at 99mph over the crumbling cliffs of Dover…”
This is “BATTERED Britain.” Waves lash the beach in Dorset. A tree falls through a workshop in Norfolk. Cars roll over in Liverpool.
“SO WINTER’S HERE’S THEN!” exclaims the Mail’s front page. “CRUSHED; BATTERED; FROZEN; BLOWN AWAY.”
Waiting. Here she comes. Waiting. Can’t wait. Can’t wait. Storm clouds massing. Bring it on…
The thought of Jade Goody’s skin crawling is not a pleasant one. But one person happy with Jade’s mobile skin is Jade.
Whether the skin be white, sunset orange or a deep mahogany brown, Jade is happy.
But Jade needs to learn that not everyone has such talented, chameleon skin.
Take Shilpa Shetty, aka “The Indian”, “The Princess” and “Shep”.
Shilpa’s skin does not crawl. If Shilpa Shetty’s skin needs any treatment is has to wait for the rest of Shilpa to take it to a basin and before a mirror.
This is a source of much wonder to Jade and her ilk. And while applying a treatment to remove unwanted facial hair, Danielle (complexion: Brookside beige) wonders: “Do you get stubble?”
That question was addressed to Shilpa’s mouth. But before Shilpa could reply, Jo (complexion: Prisoner Cell Block H), adds: “Like a man!”
Later Danielle turns to Jade and says of Shilpa: “She wants to be white.”
If true, we wonder if Danielle can in some way swap skin with Shilpa. Can Shilpa’s skin be trained to crawl like Jade’s? This way Shilpa can be white, as Danielle says she wants to be, and Danielle can be a radiant, alluring brown. This should spare Shilpa from a lifetime of skin envy and save Danielle a not inconsiderable fortune in tanning products.
Of course, Danielle may be made truly ashen white were she to read the Mirror’s front page. “EVICT THEM,” says the headline. “Storm as 10,000 blast Big Brother bullies.”
Danielle, Jade and Jo are all pictured. Complaints have been made. Thousands of Big Brother viewers have accused the three of racism and bullying.
Labour MP Keith Vaz, of Asian skin tones, is said to have tabled a Commons motion condemning the abuse dished out to Shilpa.
Says he: “If this racist behaviour goes on, they should be asked to leave.”
This is the Sun’s “HOUSE OF HATE”. The Sun hears Jade Good’s boyfriend (complexion: simple) invite Shilpa to pick chicken bones out of the Big Brother toilet with her teeth.
Danielle is unhappy with Shilpa touching any food. Says Danielle: “You don’t know where those hands have been.”
Jade has been dumped as the frumpy face of an anti-bullying charity. Act Against Bullying calls Jade’s behaviour “unforgivable”.
Says Jo: “Indians are thin because they don’t cook food properly.”
And Shilpa says… Well, Shilpa just carries on. Her skin might be untalented, but it is admirably resilient…
It’s got the lot, this one.
There’s this bald Brummie getting a blow-job, a black lesbian bodybuilder picking her nose in bed, a fat red-faced sweaty sock pretending to give one to an obese black bird from Birmingham, and an undereducated cockney with a big chest who farts while jumping over a female Arsenal fan during a game of leap-frog.
Sounds good doesn’t it? But don’t take our word for it. Watch the DVD of Big Brother Uncut 3 for yourself.
And now thrill to the sequel. It’s “JADE’S LIVE SEX SHOW,” says the Star. Any takers?
The Star’s front page threatens much. These are the “bits they wouldn’t let you see” on Celebrity Big Brother.
The story is that “dippy” Jade – who continues to be talked about as dim despite the Sun’s news that her get slim workout (available on DVD) works best with some liposuction – has partaken of “seedy sex antics” on Big Brother.
Those of us who saw Jade all those large globular moons ago sitting naked on the Big Brother sofa in Big Brother 3, will wonder what there is left to see
But there is more. “JACK IT RIGHT IN JADE,” comes the revolting headline in the Star. “X-rated romp too dirty for telly.”
There are “porn-style romps”. There is Jack performing an “X-rated sex act on Jade”. Cameramen, a famously prudish bunch, have seen the pair “pleasuring one another between the sheets of a double bed”.
Another clip shows Jack forgoing the delights of Jade and “pleasuring himself”. “Stop it!” commands Jade. “I don’t want you to mess up the bed.”
See it all on Celebrity Big Brother – Uncut. Or cut. Or … Well, best not to look…
Though not obvious at the time, Sayer’s immortal lyric “I wanna dance the night away” was the protest chant of its age.
Pocket-sized Leo was sure to be more than a handful in the Big Brother house. When the housemates needed someone to take a stand, Leo would be there to reach out and touch, only a heartbeat away.
But it was Leo who needed help. Leo’s sticking point in the Big Brother house was his underpants.
“I had run out of clean underpants and I thought, ‘That’s it.’ I asked for clean pants, they knew my size and they said ‘No’.”
Leo is nothing if not self-aware. As he tells the Mail: “People might say, ‘Why didn’t you just wash what you had?’ But I did not want to be on screen washing my smalls. And the sinks were filthy.”
Small? So much for Leo’s trusty lance of truth. Leo realises how he come across on TV – “Leo Sayer, spoilt little boy walking out because he won’t wash his pants.”
That’s about the size of it. Isn’t it?
Well, no. This is far from the truth of the matter. Indeed, as Leo says, “I have always struggled against this misconception.” He continues on: “I’m not this cuddly jumper-wearing good guy. I’m not David Cassidy. I’m more Johnny Rotten. I’m more Donny Tourette.”
Is this why Leo left the Big Brother house, to be like Tourette, the former public schoolboy whose swearing and smoking are signs of his rebellion?
Says the viewer at home: “Mother come quick, there’s a public schoolboy who changes his name and swears on national TV? What’s the world coming to?”
There is no accounting for Donny Tourette’s daring. Leo moans about his dirty underpants. Donny probably wears the same ones for two days at a time.
And as for that Mr Rotten, well, has he any underpants? Does anyone recall Rotten even mentioning his underpants when he was in the I’m A Celebrity Jungle?
Leo is no David Cassidy, who to the best of your knowledge has yet to star in a reality TV show.
Reality TV is for rebels who like to bunk off early…
Trashing Celebrity Big Brother
You came to pick up your daughter from a friend’s house party, embarrassed her and left. Many parents have done it.
But why did Jackiey leave so early, and before the booze had been delivered?
Big Brother sat Jackiey in the Diary Room on that gold wing-backed throne and told her about the dilemma it had provoked. “What’s a dimmela?” asked Jackiey.
Eat your heart out, Carole Malone, who speaks as if juggling her teeth with the tongue, lips and tonsils. Carole may be a tabloid journalist, but Jackiey asks the questions that matter.
Like mother, like daughter. Jackiey showed signs of being like Jade when she was first in the Big Brother house – unabashed to ask questions.
Remember these? Jade: “Where’s East Angular [sic] though? I thought that was abroad”; “The Union Jack is for all of us, but the St George is just for London, isn’t it?”; and “Do they speak Portuganese in Portugal? I thought Portugal was in Spain.”
Much of Jade’s ignorance stems from a lack of geographic awareness, a problem made more acute by her being in the Big Brother house.
Outside the house, Jade is Big Brother’s Jade, a likeable, bundle of man-beating brawn. Inside the house, she is a celebrity, no different to Danielle Lloyd and ‘Preparation’ H From Steps.
Jade cannot help but be more self-aware than when she was last in the Big Brother compound. Time has moved on.
But in spite of the glances to camera and her habit of striking a pose, she can still ask the questions. This was Jade’s exchange with Jermaine Jackson.
Jade: “You’re actually black aren’t you?”
Jade: ‘Cos lookin’ at you, like, you’re dark, like your brothers.
Jade: But looking at Michael, he’s gone white actually, ain’t he?”
Jermaine may whisper the words “white trash” in conversation with Shilpa’s hair, but it is a phrase that risks embracing his own brother Michael – he of the milky complexion, delapidated ranch and children from a broken home called Paris and Prince.
This is a game. And Jade’s a player. A tictactical one…
HAS anyone seen a fuckin’ squillel in the Celebrity Big Brother house?
It was there a moment ago. That grandmother was holding it up and talking about it. It was made of wood. It was a fuckin’ wooden squillel.
Jackiey needs to find one. She needs to get in touch with her inner f***in’ squillel. Because is she not Joannie ‘Nan’ Taylor from the Catherine Tate show?
It was an impression that began when Jackiey was taking to Shiplap, or Shil, or Shhhh. For a woman who lusts for the exotic – note her spelling of Jackiey – granny Goody was undone by Shilpa’s two syllables.
How dare Shilpa have a seventh floor flat and a funny name! “What a fucking liberty!”
And looking at Big Brother is has become clear that the Goodys have modelled themselves on Tait’s characters.
While Jackiey looks for her squillel, Jade says she is not bovvered by Ken Russell helping himsel’ to “cheese and bizkits”.
Ken invited her to look at his face. Was he bovvred? Face, bovvered? Jade looked bovvered. She said she was not bovvered. But the eyes gave her away. She was very bovvered. She stomped around. Ken noted the “vitriolic look of hatred on her face”.
And then there are Jade’s grandma and grandpa. They arrived in the Big Brother house for dinner. Wine was poured. ‘Allo! What’s this, then? Wine… With Dinner… Listen to this.
Wine at a table with food being served? Grandpa looked upset. He wants a beer. Crushed grapes with alcohol in it. Disgusting. The dirty bastards.
And this Tait-ification is infectious. What is ‘Preparation’ H if not Derek Faye? Granted H has come out. But his closet was more a walk-in wardrobe with fairylights and full of men performing choreographed dance routines. Me gay, dear? No, dear. How very impertinent. How very dare you.
Celebrity Big Brother burns…
“MY wild sex with Leo missus as he played ping pong.”
As kinky sex goes, the tale of Celebrity Big Brother escapee Donny Tourette and Leo Sayer’s wife is reminiscent of a Bangkok tryst.
But the three and their sporting aides were not together at the time of Donny’s dalliance. And reading on in the Sun we learn that Donny and Leo’s common law wife Donatella Piccinetti were changing ends while Leo was playing table tennis with Donny’s brother.
All parties were at Leo’s Buckinghamshire mansion. As Donny says: “One time my brother Dirk was plying Leo at a game of table tennis when I was upstairs in his bedroom giving his lady a seeing to.”
And? “My brother says it was so loud Leo completely missed his shot and just gave him this sort of quizzical look. I think it was a pretty vital point in the game as well.”
Now at large, Spinal Tap wannabe Donny is free to revisit the scene of his former sporting glories and take up with Ms Piccinetti once more.
Leo remains in the Celebrity Big Brother house. And, as Donny claims, Leo is also in an open relationship.
If the mood is right will Leo play a little with one of the housemates?
Leo had best make his move fast. The gang is dwindling fast. Donny has fled. Ken Russell has walked. And the Star thinks it knows why.
This is “THE CURSE OF JADE”. “KISS OF DEATH JADE!”
There can be little denying that Jade Goody’s arrival in the Celebrity Big Brother house threatens to ruin the show.
Her limp lover Jack, her spiteful mother, “a disruptive force, verging on pure evil” (Ken Russell), and her Big Brother professionalism are a bore. (Cruel minds have suggested the Goodys are an advert for eugenics?)
The Star says Jackiey is “more crude than a vat of oil”. It invites a housemate to light one of her farts and send her on her way.
But things change. The Express remembers when Jade left the Big Brother house in 2002 to cries of “Burn the pig!”. Will Jackiey recover?
Or will she burn..?
ONE full day into the Celebrity Big Brother house and signs of Jermaine Jackson falling apart.
The Mail has a picture of the Jackson sporting a strip of tape across the bridge and point of his snub nose. Is the tape to keep it on? Is this nose a keepsake from his brother Michael Jackson, something to hold and look at in those low times?
Or is the strip a way of removing blackheads and clearing blocked pores?
The Sun says it is an anti-snoring strip. And, if so, would Jermaine please lend it to Ken Russell, who was waken by Spinal Tap wannabe Donny Tourette and given a “heads up” about his nightly din.
On second thoughts, keep Ken Russell snoring – it reminds us that he is alive. (Perish the thought, but might Ken leave the show feet first?)
Back to Jermaine, who seems proud enough of his looks to try anything to keep things just so. And if that includes painting his head with wood stain then so be it.
The Sun says that Jermaine is dye-ing to win Celebrity Big Brother. It looks on as Jermaine lifts his head from the pillow and leaves behind a mark. What odds the stain will remain long after Jermaine has been evicted?
We can only wonder what might have been had the rumours been correct and Robert Kilroy Silk entered the house. With all that varnish the place would have looked like an old tavern in no time at all.
Even the brightest strip lighting could not have penetrated the inky blackness…
CELEBRITY Big Brother is back.
There will be secret gardens, fake evictions, quadruple evictions, no hot water, only hot water, intruders on the roof and the late twist in which the losers are sent to live on Love Island for eternity and the winner is anointed as Tony Blair’s successor in Number 10. Hurrah!
And as the Celebrity Big Brother housemates get ready to squeeze spots, pluck nasal hairs and pout into one-way mirrors backed by hairy-arsed cameramen dashing through warrens, we settle in.
This is going to be challenging month’s telly in which matters like which celebrity ate the most grains of rice and who ordered quilted toilet roll will take on a massive importance.
And who will win? Well, before the contestants are announced making a bet is a tricky thing. Will Prince Charles win? Will Zippy prove a hit? Or will the spoils go to an unknown, another wannabe plucked from the checkout at Iceland and shot into stardom?
The odds are long on Celebrity Big Brother presenter Davina McCall not shouting all the time (25-1) and not filling gaps in the dire scripted parts by gurning (80-1).
And there is money to be made. The last Big Brother series was won by crusty Pete Bennett, a manipulator who duped so many of us into voting for him (remember his soppy love for Nikki?). At the outset Pete was 7-1 to win.
Last year’s Celebrity Big Brother was hard to call. At the start, non-famous Chantelle Houghton, a Paris Hilton look-alike from Essex – her task was to convince the real celebrities that she was in a band called Kandyfloss – was 11-1 to win. No great odds given the show’s eleven contestants.
With one week of last season’s Celebrity Big Brother remaining Chantelle was 4-7 to win. On the last night, she was in to 1-5. Her closest challenger was her now husband Preston at 5-1.
So who will win? Who will achieve fame and fortune, like Bez (winner in 2005)? Who will not work again? And who will work again, albeit at the Toby Carvery in Walsall?
Place your bets…